


Boy Interrupted

by Taimane



Category: Baywatch (2017)
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:27:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23449285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taimane/pseuds/Taimane
Summary: Everything catches up with Brody.
Relationships: Matt Brody/Summer Quinn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	Boy Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just starting to get back into my writing... All of my pics will be finished I promise. I'm just working through some stuff and trying to get rid of my writers block. Thanks for your patience!

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” Matt snarled, the expletive leaving his mouth before he even knew what he had said.  
He had been talking with Summer and C.J, when a hand tapped him on the shoulder.  
He turned around, fists raised in front of his face, one hand wrapped around a half empty bottle of Scotch. He put his thumb over the bottle, so none of the glorious liquid gold inside would be wasted. He didn’t see Summer and C.J jump and look at each other in surprise. 

“Woah, easy there!” Mitch took a guarded step back, raising his hands slowly in surrender.  
“All I was going to say was, maybe you should slow down on the drink their buddy.” He said, tilting his head towards the bottle. Mitch’s stomach dropped when he saw the stubborn gleam in his young protégées eyes. This wasn’t going to be easy, and Mitch didn’t want to make a scene.  
“Here, try this instead,” he filled a glass full of water and handed it to him, keeping his body angled slightly away from Matt, so he wouldn’t feel threatened.  
He felt like he was dealing with a spooked animal. Mitch sighed in relief when Matt took the glass from him. It was short lived though, as Matt promptly threw the glass onto the carpet, glass shards shattering everywhere. 

“Why don’t you go back to your fuckin’ tower and leave me alone? I’m not some kid.” If Matt was angry before, he was livid now.  
“No, you’re not.” ‘Diffuse the situation, dumbass.’ Mitch thought to himself. Someone had switched the music off, and a crowd was starting to form. Nothing drew in spectators like a fight.  
“I’m not implying that. I’m not even saying you need to stop drinking. But a glass of water or two wouldn’t go amiss.”  
Matt laughed, a hysterical edge to his voice. “What do you care? You’re not my dad.”  
Mitch would never admit to anyone that that comment stung. “No. I’m not.” He agreed, glancing at C.J. and Summer for help. They both shrugged and shook their heads no. _Cowards,_ he thought blithely. 

“But we are on the early shift tomorrow, and I don’t want to be looking after you nursing a hang over, and also trying to keep everyone on the beach safe.”  
Matt roller his eyes. “What do you think is gonna happen? The worlds not going to end because I’m hung over. Maybe you need to get down to our level.”  
“Preach!” Someone hollered from the depths of the crowd.  
Matt saw a way out. He flung his arms open. “Shots!” He cried, and revelled in the cheers as everyone raised a glass. The music came back on, and people slowly started to loose interest in the altercation between the two lifeguards. He turned back to Mitch, giving him his best shit- eating grin. “What ya gonna do Sasquatch?”  
Mitch folded his arms across his chest. “I could declare you unfit for work, if you turn in still drunk of hung over then I can suspend you for a week without pay. Take your pick.” He shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. 

“That’s not fair! You can’t do that! You think you can bully me?! I’ve dealt with men like you my whole life! Thinking you know what’s best for me, when you don’t know me at all! What are you gonna do if I don’t toe the line?! Lock me up in a fucking cellar?! Stop me eating meals? No. No way, I won’t let you do that to me again! I’m not a kid anymore-!”  
Matts face was bright read as he sucked in a breath, suddenly remembering to breathe. As if someone had dumped ice cold water over his head, reality came crashing back. He wasn’t in the orphanage, he wasn’t a nobody anymore. He was Matt Brody, two time Olympic gold medalist, elite lifeguard, and he had just spilled his deepest, darkest secrets to a room full of people. Oh, god. He forced himself to look up, and came face to face with Mitch’s own horrified one.  
And Summers appalled expression, eyes wide with shock; and Steph, C.J. and Ronnie were just standing their, looking at him with so much pity etched into their features that he couldn’t bear it. He’d fucked it up, again. As suddenly as he had sucked the breath back into his body, it left him. He felt dizzy and light headed, and he just needed to get away from this mess he had created simply by being Matt fucking Brody.  
“Matt...” Mitch tried to pull him into a hug, or at least, that’s what Matt thought he was doing, but he didn’t stick around long enough to find out. And Mitch had used Matts real name. That was awful in itself. He felt completely crushed.

Matt spun around so fast that if Simone Biles had seen his pirouette she would have applauded him, of that he was sure. He did the only thing he could do, and the only thing he had been trained to do, both mentally and physically. He ran. He ran, ran, and ran. He didn’t take much heed to the worried calls from his friends. He just had to get away.

Out of breath and wheezing, Matt eventually stopped on the side of a road, about an hour away from where he was bunking at Mitch’s beach house.  
He only stopped running because he had a stitch. Bent over double, he coughed and gasped, and brining a hand up to his forehead, he felt the veins sticking up through his skin.  
He pulled his hand away, and wiped the sweat on his jeans. Standing up he stretched, cracking his shoulders and, for the first time taking in his surroundings. He was still holding the bottle of Whiskey, he realised, and brought it up to his lips. 

He was sorely disappointed to find the bottled had already been drained. As if the universe had read his mind, his eyes instantly locked on the dodgy looking liquor store on the side of the road. A sign in the window read ‘liqor’ as the red light failed to light up the letter u. The light flashed on and off, and the electricity static could be heard from where he was standing on the other side of the road, like a siren singing to him. He turned towards it, and almost fell forwards into the path of a car. “Fuckin’ watch where you’re going! Dick!” He screamed over the car horn and gestured rudely at the boot of the 69 Chevy as it sped away. 

Slightly stunned, he stumbled over to the store, not bothering to look as he crossed the road. He put a hand on the brick wall of the shop to steady himself, he breath coming in short, sharp gasps. ‘That was really close,’ he thought. He could have died. He needed more alcohol.  
He was seeing double off everything by now, everything was blurred at the edges with the effects of the first bottle of whiskey starting to kick in. 

He fumbled for the door handle, and it took more effort than it should have to open the door and shuffle into the shop. He blinked as the white shop lights blinded him. Letting his vision clear, or at least clear as much as it was going to after drinking a bottle of Scotch and then some. The shop was dusty, and looked like it hadn’t been renovated since it was erected.  
The bell rang to signal his appearance, making the young, bored man child sitting at the counter look up at him. 

“You alright their pal?” He said, looking back down at his phone.  
“Yeah,” Matt lied. “A bottle of your finest Scotch please. This gave the bored shopkeeper to look up sharply, raising an eyebrow towards his hairline. “Well then, that’ll be 250 American dollars.” He drawled slowly. 

Matt stumbled towards the counter, the chequered pattern on the floor disturbed his vision, making walking even more difficult. He fished out his wallet from his back pocket, and slapped what he thought looked like the right amount of money. Apparently it was, as the assistant turned and took an expensive looking Whiskey from the top shelf. “You sure you don’t want anything cheaper? Famous Grouse is only Twenty. It tastes like shit but it’ll get you drunk... or more drunk,” he added, looking Matt up and down.  
Matt blinked his sore eyes and reached for the bottle. “Yup, that’s fine, Thank you. Keep the change.” The shopkeeper gaped at him. “But that’s $50 over!”  
“I don’t need it anymore,” Matt called over his shoulder as he pulled open the stupidly heavy door. “Thanks man!” The shopkeeper called back, and Matt just waved back blindly as the door slammed shut. 

The Whiskey burned, and Matt relished in the feeling as the warmth slid down his throat. He took another few gulps, before setting the bottle down in the sand. He kicked the dirt absentmindedly whilst subconsciously picking the rubber off the abandoned tyre that he was currently commandeering as a seat. 

He sighed deeply, staring unblinkingly into the night. The desert stretched on for miles, and the only sounds he could hear were the disembodied wild dogs and hyenas. He furrowed his eyebrows deeply as he reached for the bottle, only just realising how cool the night air was. His hand was shaking as he brought the bottle to his lips and downed a quarter of it in one long swig.  
Man, he thought, he had really fucked up, big time. There was simply no way he could go back, not now. His whole world had come crashing down around him, all because he wouldn’t drink a glass of water. He should’ve just drank the god damn water. But, if he couldn’t go back, where would he go? He had no family that he could run back to, head down and proverbial tail tucked in between his legs because he had failed, again. The highway stretched for miles, and he had no money, no clothes, well, apart from the ones on his back, no motorbike, and nowhere to go. It was just him, he was well and truly alone.  
Suddenly, he felt as if the loneliness was crushing him from the inside, and by god it was painful. He felt as if an invisible hand- call it god or whatever, had reached inside him, grabbed every single bone in his body, and squeezed. 

Matt looked up at the sky, and saw the same nothingness above as he did ahead of him, and it he swallowed as he felt a sob clawing its way up his throat. He tried to drown it with the Scotch, but it only amplified the feelings that where already there. Hell, he thought, he couldn’t even get drunk properly. He glugged down some more, and he felt as though his throat was on fire from the alcohol. Tipping his head back, he steadfastly ignored the silent tears that streaked their way across his face and dropped over his nose, and rolling down his chin onto his shirt in favour of getting more alcohol into his blood stream. He felt a wave of anger crash over him when the liquid thinned out into dribbles and then nothing. 

Matt shook the bottle, and in his drunken haze he flung it as far as he could. It smashed into a million pieces on the road. Matt snuffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘May as well keep walking,’ he thought and he staggered up and heaved himself off the tyre. It was at that moment that the alcohol decided to kick in, and he staggered a few paces before falling face first into the sand. 

As he clumsily found purchase and pushed himself to his knees, he felt something within him break, and suddenly it was as if a dam had opened. Matt threw his head back and let out a piercing scream. He screamed for the little boy who had to learn how to defend himself too young, he screamed for the Olympian who had to defend himself from his coaches and his team mates, he screamed for the life he had just left behind, and a future that he felt was just out of his reach. Every now and then it was dangled in-front of him, before it was snatched away. When he thinks about it a bit more, maybe the fact that Leeds knew that his favourite drink was Scotch before he even met the bitch should have rang alarm bells. 

His screams turned into howls of pure anguish, his arms hung loosely at his sides, and he could nearly feel the sand in between his limp fingers. Finally, after what felt like a life time, whatever was in him left, and he slumped into the sand, sobbing hoarsely. Matt lay there, face half buried in the sand, coughing it in as he dry heaved and one electric blue eye half rolled up into his head. Every muscle in his body ached, and eventually he let himself slowly drift away. 

~~~~~ Baywatch ~~~~~~~~~~ Baywatch ~~~~~~~~~~ Baywatch ~~~~~

Mitch clutched the steering wheel of his jeep, silently thanking whichever deity had the monopoly for the sixth sense he seemed to have. It was something Mitch was born with, and he never had been able to put it into words. It was the feeling in him that knew the wind was going to change before it did, and it gave him that extra edge, allowing him save that wind surfer. He knew when the tides would change, or when an influx of jelly fish were due to arrive before they did. He knew how to lure manta rays away from the bay and back to clear waters, and his bones seemed to creek before the waters would become infested with great whites. 

It made him a great lifeguard, he had been dubbed “lieutenant” by the people he had saved. The title started after he had saved a young boys life, he had fell off a jet ski that he had been sharing with his father, and Mitch had seen the tide turn against the boat. Seeing the boy on the back, his gut told him to run. Mitch got there just as he fell, effectively being able to save his life. Those precious seconds meant everything. The boy was obsessed with the army, his father had explained to him, he wanted to sign up when he was old enough. Mitch was given the honourable title of lieutenant, and he had cherished it ever since. It was that same gut feeling, the same bone creaking feeling he got when danger was imminent that was causing him to race down the highway at breakneck speed, probably breaking a dozen speeding laws. He would apologise to Ellerbee later. Right now, a member of his family was hurting, alone, and potentially in danger. Either from somebody else due to his vulnerable intoxicated state, or, more frighteningly, in danger from himself. Either way, it was a code red. 

Stephanie Holden, Mitch’s second in command, was sat in the passenger seat, white faced and grim. Summer Quinn and Ronnie Greenbaum were sat in the back seats, staring straight ahead, mouths set in a thin, sad line. They had been driving for about half an hour, before Steph broke the silence with a terrified yell. “There!” She screeched, pointing at the side of the road ahead. Summer launched forward, gripping the back of Mitch and Stephanie’s seats in horror. Lying in the side of the road, covered in mud and sand, was Matt. 

“Fuck, Shit!” Mitch swung the car onto the side of the road and screeched to a halt. He hadn’t even had chance to put the hand break on before everyone was launching themselves out of the car and racing towards their fallen team mate. Steph reached him first, falling to her knees and gently placing her hands on Matts shoulders and rolling him over. She gently opened his mouth and dislodged some of the sand he had sucked in with her finger. Summer knelt next to her prone boyfriend and helped Steph to lift him up, his dead weight made it a hard job. “Matt!” She tapped his face, leaning in as close as she could. “Matt!”  
“Alcohol poisoning.” Mitch diagnosed. “I’m calling an ambulance.”  
“C’mon, we need to try and rouse him,” Steph said “Ronnie, C.J, can you get some water and some blankets from the boot please?” “Sure,” “On it,” they replied before running to the boot of the car. Ronnie looked at C.J in panic. “Alcohol poisoning?!” He whispered. C.J. Nodded grimly. “Yeah, Mitch is pissed.” Ronnie paused. “We don’t know why Matt is the way he is. I mean, what do we really know about the guy, except that he was an Olympic gold medalist. Nothing! Nada. Zilch, squat. He could be anybody-”  
“Where are you with that water!?”  
“Right! Coming!” Ronnie floundered as C.J. Shook her head and grabbed what she was looking for. “Get it together Ron, we will find all that out later. It’s not important just yet.”  
They headed back to Matt, Steph and Summer had managed to sit him up, his arms were dangling limp at his sides and his head was lolling on his shoulders. Summer placed a hand under his chin to steady it, and the other hand began stroking his cheek. “C’mon baby,” she whispered in his ear. “Come back to me.” 

C.J handed Steph the blanket and water, who promptly wrapped it around Matts shoulders. She un-screwed the water and placed it to Matts lips, after failing to coax him into drinking it she put her hand under his chin, forcing his mouth open and dripping the water gently into his mouth. He coughed but was able to drink some of it. The motion finally made Matt open one eye. “Hey,” Steph greeted. “You’re a dumbass, you know? Drink this.” After gulping down more water, this time without too much assistance from Steph, the blanket was wrapped tightly around Matts shoulders. “ ’Nks,” he slurred, glancing wearily at Steph and Summer. 

“’er ’m I?” Summer sighed and stroked his head, hoping she was bringing him some comfort.  
“About an hour away from the Beach. I take it you ran here? Then it looks like you tried to drink yourself to death. What were you thinking!?”  
Matts head lolled onto Summers shoulder during her tirade. “’ry,” he slurred, before closing his eyes. “Hey, Matt? Stay with us,” Summer patted his face again and his blinked his eyes open, managing to look somewhat disgruntled.  
“Ambulance is on the way. What were you thinking moron?!” Mitch fumes as he knelt down next to Steph, Summer and Ronnie. “We were trying to ask him the same thing.” Steph replied dryly. “Haven’t got much out of him though.” Matt blinked up at them dumbly.  
“’rry. ’cked ’p ’gain.” Summer bowed her head so that she was resting her forehead on Matts.  
“Yeah but we’re used to it by now.” Mitch patted his arm gently.  
“We’re going to get you into this ambulance soon and get you sobered up, but we all need to have a serious talk about what triggered this. We want to help.”  
“’rry, ’cked ’p,” Matt repeated. “It’s okay baby. It’s okay.” Summer murmured repeatedly under her breath. 

Blue light from the approaching ambulance suddenly bathed the scene, casting eerie shadows across their faces.  
“Did you guys call an ambulance?!” One of the medics shouted from the passenger seat.  
“Yeah over here!” Mitch waved them over. They jumped out of the van, before running around the back and pulling a gurney over to the group crouched on the floor.  
“Hey. I’m Dan, this is Jess. Someone want to fill us in?” 

As Mitch recounted the nights events to the medics, the medics peeled back the blanket from Matts body and started taking their patients vitals.  
“Does he take any other substances?” One of them asked the group. All of them shook their heads. “Not that we know of,” Ronnie interjected, earning a glare from his friends. He held his hands up in defence. “What!? I’m telling them the truth.”  
“Does he have a next of kin?”  
“No,” Summer cut in before anyone else. “He’s an orphan, grew up in a couple of foster homes. We are the only family he has.”  
An uneasy silence fell over the lifeguards. “He did?” Mitch asked in a strange voice. Summer looked as him sympathetically, mouth set in a grim line and her eyes sad. 

“Well that explains a heck of a lot,” Ronnie muttered, trying to cover his unease with sarcasm.  
C.J. Made a strange, almost animalistic sound of unhappiness as she looked down glumly at her friend. “We can talk about this later, right now we need to get Matt somewhere safe. Ideally a hospital,” she looked at the two paramedics. “Will Matt being an orphan be a problem?” She asked. “In an ideal world no. But unfortunately we need to know that he has medical insurance.” Replied one of the medics.  
“That won’t be a problem, he’s a lifeguard and his medical bills are covered by the bay.” Mitch cut in, glad that he could contribute in some way to his friends well being. Even if it was indirectly.  
“Right then, let’s get him on the gurney.”  
The lifeguards stood back and let the paramedics load their friend and colleague onto the gurney. Summer supported his shoulders as the movement caused Matt to vomit over the side of it.  
“We will meet you at the hospital. Does one of you want to ride with him?” Dan asked, steadying the gurney. “I will,” Summers tone brooked no argument and everyone nodded in agreement.  
Mitch clapped Summer on the shoulder. “See you soon,” he said softly, and watched as she followed Matt into the back of the ambulance. She glanced up at them as the ambulance doors swung shut.  
“Right,” said Mitch, letting out a long breath as the Ambulance sirens broke the silence of the night. “Let’s go.” 

~~~~~ Baywatch ~~~~~~~~~~ Baywatch ~~~~~~~~~~ Baywatch ~~~~~

The drive behind the Ambulance was made in complete silence, just as the drive to find their friend had been. 

This is a mess, thought Ronnie, staring out of the window pensively. In truth, he was embarrassed. He had been one of the lifeguards who had openly disliked Matt, hadn’t trusted him. He couldn’t figure out whether Matt was trying to play dumb, and was secretly smart. He didn’t like how he had leered at Summer before he asked her out, and he didn’t like how insubordinate he was towards his mentors. Ronnie thought that all of these qualities that Matt seemed to possess made him a dangerous person to be around. The thought that Matt could be faking some of these qualities gave Ronnie the chills. But being brought up in a care home might go along way to explaining most of Matts… eccentricities. 

Ronnie was startled from his thoughts by C.J, who was clicking her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Ron. You back hun?” she asked, frowning slightly in worry. Ronnie blinked. “Sure, Whats up?”  
“Nearly there,” said Mitch. “Wanna tell us what you were thinking about? I could literally hear the gears turning in your brain.”  
Ronnie sighed and worried his lips in between his teeth. “It’s nothing really….” he caught Steph looking at him in the rear view. “Spill,” she commanded. “Tonights been difficult enough.”  
“It’s just. I never liked Matt. I never knew why, either. But I’ve always had a good judge of character. I always thought he was faking being that stupid, I mean… no one can really be that stupid. Even dyslexic people aren’t that thick. It just didn’t strike me as honest. And the insubordination was dangerous… especially in our job. I couldn’t get a read on him and it made me nervous around him, and I couldn’t work out why Summer and you guys gave him a second chance either. I know it was wrong of me to judge but I couldn’t help it, and now I’m thinking i’ve been a massive dick because growing up in an orphanage can’t have been easy, and it sure as hell explains away some of his… ticks.” Ronnie finished, taking a deep breath. “It’s just a lot to take in.” 

C.J. nodded. “Sure,” she said. “The adults who looked after him in the orphanage can’t have all been nice. I’ve heard horror stories… There was one about an orphanage in Iowa not long ago, a couple of years ago I think. You don’t think it could’ve been Matt’s orphanage could it?”  
“Lets not jump to conclusions,” Mitch rumbled. “Here we are. We can ask him himself when he’s well enough.”  
The group of weary lifeguards climbed out of the van and ascended the stairs to the hospital. They were greeted by the medic who had introduced himself earlier as Dan.  
“He’s having his stomach pumped,” he said in way of greeting, reaching out to shake Mitch’s hand. “It was lucky you found him when you did, alcohol poisoning. He’s going to feel rough for a couple of days, not to mention withdrawal.”  
“Thank you,” said Mitch. “He’ll be okay though?”  
Dan nodded, and turned his radio down as a voice blared through the speakers. “Yes, he should make a full recovery, but it won’t be easy. The doctor will be able to give you a more detailed diagnosis, I’m only letting you know what I overheard. I’ve told you more than I should anyway. Listen, i have to go. Good luck.”  
Mitch nodded as Dan took off at a run and disappeared through the hospital doors.  
“Waiting rooms that way,” the nurse at the reception desk pointed to her right without looking up. “Doctor will be with you as soon as he can.”  
“Great, thanks.” Mitch raised an eyebrow and followed his colleagues into the room. 

The group piled into the small room and slumped down on the hard plastic seats, an untouched pot of fresh coffee and cups stacked high had been placed on a small table in the corner of the room. The sun was beginning to rise before the door opened and an exhausted, haggard looking Doctor appeared. “He’s stable,” he said by way of greeting. The group sighed in relief.  
“Does anyone know how he got into this mess?” The doctor asked, and everyone turned to Mitch in unison. Mitch sucked in a breath and levelled his gaze at the Doctor. “Honestly Doc, I’m not sure. I knew he had a problem with alcohol in the past, and is obviously still struggling with it. We were at a party and I noticed that he was drinking a bit too much, so I tried to get him to slow down a little. I tapped him on the shoulder and that’s when he...” Mitch gestured quizzically at the air, searching for the right word to describe Matt going bat shit crazy. 

“He went bat shit crazy.” Ronnie took pity on his boss and decided to help him out. “He screamed at Mitch for touching him and then he ran off. By the time we got to him he was almost paralytic on the side of the highway. Called the ambulance and you know the rest.”  
The Doctor nodded. “When he wakes up I will want to question him to find out how best to help his recovery. You can see him but he’s asleep. Please refrain from putting him under any stress if he does happen to wake up, and press the big red button on the wall. If you’d like to follow me.”  
The tired group of lifeguards followed the Doctor down a long corridor. “He’s in there,” the Doctor pointed towards the last door. “The receptionists or nurses are available for any non emergencies.”  
“Thanks Doc,” Mitch said before leading his staff into Matts recovery room. He wasn’t expecting the torrent of emotions that hit him like a tonne of bricks when he saw his colleague and friend lying in a hospital bed.  
“What are those tubes for?” Ronnie asked, his voice strangled. “To help him breathe, it’s okay. It’s just to take the pressure off his organs while he recovers.” Summer explained, getting up from her chair next to Matt’s bedside and patting Ronnie on the shoulder. “You guys okay?” She asked.  
Stephanie nodded. “Yeah, I think. I’ll be better when we get some answers though.” Summer nodded. “You and me both, but I think it’s something to do with his foster home. He won’t really talk about it with me, but I don’t think the men in charge of the kids were very nice. I think that’s why he has trouble with authority type figures. When Mitch tapped him on the shoulder, coupled with the drink, it just sent him over the edge. He’s been tense for a couple of days, so I know he’s keeping something from me.” Summer hugged her chest and went to sit back down. “Well, when he’s awake we’ll find out.” Mitch looked over to C.J and nodded in agreement. “But for now, we wait.”


End file.
